


don't take it personal

by chokedme



Series: ain't it fun? [3]
Category: IT (2017)
Genre: AU, Hate Sex, M/M, Porn with barely any plot, a lil violence, degradation kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 06:25:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13992366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chokedme/pseuds/chokedme
Summary: mike and richie absolutely hate each other, but there’s some other feelings there as well





	don't take it personal

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by an ask i saw on tumblr!! hehe

there were very few things in life that richie hated. scratch that, there was none. oh wait, actually there was one teeny, tiny thing. mike wheeler, the newest addition to his friend group. richie couldn’t get rid of him. wherever he went, is was always mike, mike, mike. the boy was like a parasite, latching onto his friends and stealing of all of richie’s jokes, all of his punch lines and digs at eddie’s mom. he couldn’t do much about it though, all the losers absolutely adored him, inviting him everywhere they went. it was aggravating. they thought richie would love mike as well though, considering how much they looked and acted alike. they couldn’t have been more wrong. richie wanted nothing more than to pound mike’s face in, his stupid smirk and stupid curly black hair and his stupid freckles. he promised himself that the next time he saw mike wheeler, he was going to punch him. hard.

mike had moved to derry a few weeks ago, immediately gravitating towards the bright, sunny redhead in his science class. he learned her name was beverly, and soon she was introducing him to all her friends, who accepted him in with a smile. except for one. richie tozier. a tall, pale boy with dark brown, curly hair, freckles, and large glasses. richie refused to speak to him, instead crossing his arms and huddling in the corner, obviously frustrated by mike’s presence. so mike made sure he was always around, hanging out with the losers at the quarry, the movies, the arcade. you name it, mike was there, just to annoy richie. and he also did enjoy spending time with his new friends, but that was just a bonus. there was always a small tug in his heart whenever he looked at richie, but traded that feeling for the mutual “hatred” they had for each other. but mike knew he was interested in the boy, always asking if richie was going to be there before going out with his new friends.

richie had only spoken to mike twice, and both ended in a nasty argument where he had almost tackled mike backwards into the ground. once he asked mike to please move so he could get past to grab some pizza while they were hanging out at bill’s house. mike just smirked and leaned over to grab a drink, which blocked richie even more. in the end, richie had to climb over the table, nearly stepping on a very angry stan, which just made richie more mad. but he kept his composure, and just stuck to shooting daggers at mike with his eyes. the second time they got into an argument, richie could FEEL his blood heating up, which before that day he thought could only happen in cartoons. mike had taken a few quarters from richie while they were at the arcade, and spent them all on pacman, which he lost in one try. richie confronted mike, throwing his hands in the air in disbelief. “i can’t believe you just stole my quarters, and blew them on a game you didn’t even win!” mike had smirked and sauntered away, leaving richie with a weird feeling in his chest. that was hate felt like right? surely it must be, he wouldn’t feel anything but for his annoying doppelganger.

the opportunity to punch mike presented itself much sooner than richie thought, not that he was complaining of course. richie was home by himself, his parents away on some business trip. this didn’t surprise him, he was 17 after all, and he had grown up being used to his parents absence. richie was sprawled across the couch, flipping through tv channels and deciding whether he should order pizza or chinese food. the doorbell rang suddenly, pulling a frustrated groan of the lazy teenager. the minute he opened the door, he wanted to slam it and run far far away. he didn’t like the way mike made him feel, his heart launching into a steady thrum while his blood filled with annoyance. this was currently the case, since it was mike that happened to be standing on the front steps of his house. “what do you want, bitch?” richie said, walking away from the door and leaving it open, which mike presumed was an invitation to come in. “i wanted to talk.” richie threw himself back on the couch, shrugging his shoulders. “then talk.” mike sits down on the couch, but thinks better of it and stands back up, clearly frustrated with richie’s blunt replies. “god richard, why do you have to be such an asshole to me all the time?” richie, looking quite offended and confused by the outburst, stands up so he’s level with mike. “because you annoy the living shit out of me, and i actually told myself the next time i see you i was going to punch you in your stupid, hot face.”

both boys paused for a second, letting what richie said sink in. then he pulls his fist back, and collides it right into mike’s jaw, a soft cracking sound echoing through richie’s living room. mike’s eyes darken as he reaches up to hold his jaw, a bruise already purpling itself on his pale skin. “i’m going to fucking kill you!” he shouts, launching himself onto richie and tackling him to the ground. richie holds his hands up to protect his face, but it’s no use. mike is punching him repeatedly, his knuckles bloody and his breathing heavy. the boy on the floor uses all his strength to flip them over, and now he’s on top, sitting on top of mike’s ribcage. he leans close to his doppleganger’s face, and mike swallows at the sight of his split lip and bloody nose, his chocolate curls sticking to his forehead with sweat.

_how does he still manage to look hot?_

and suddenly, mike feels it. his body betrays him, and his jeans get tighter. shit, shit, shit. and because the world fucking hates him, richie feels it too. mike flushes in embarrassment, he’ll never be able to live this one down. now richie knows how he feels about him, and he’s going to tell everyone and he’s -

_ohmygod he just touched me_.

richie had reached down while mike was caught in his thoughts and palmed him, his long, thin fingers curling down against him. mike had involuntarily bucked his hips up, and richie smirked, pressing against him harder. “aw, someone's a little horny huh? you like me beating you up? really gets your dick hard doesn’t it?” mike lets out a soft whimper at richie’s harsh words, grinding himself against the boy on top of him. “mhm, nope. don’t move.” richie grabs mike’s wrists and holds them above his head, pressing open mouthed kisses down his neck and collarbone. then keeping mike’s hands together, he slips between his legs and admires the tent in his jeans. “look at you, all hot and bothered for me, you stupid, desperate bitch.” richie’s breath hitches as the words leave his mouth, and mike glances down. he’s sporting an almost identical tent, and mike’s mouth practically waters.

speaking of mouths, richie’s lowering his to mike’s clothed boner, and looking up at him with lust filled eyes. he teases him through his jeans, and mike throws his head back, slightly frustrated by the lack of control he has over the situation. then richie’s lifting his hips, sliding mike’s jeans and boxers down off his legs, mesmerized by the way his cock springs up, almost purple with excitement. richie takes him into his mouth, bobbing his head up and down, kitten licking the tip when he pops off. he looks sinfully sexy, licking stripes up the underside of mike’s shaft. and then he’s deep throating him, and mike keens at the warm wetness of richie’s mouth. he grabs his hair and fucks his mouth, his tip hitting the back of his throat with every thrust. “finally putting that trashmouth to good use, huh?” richie whines around him, the vibration pushing him to the edge, when the wet heat disappears and mike whimpers from the loss. “i got to fuck you first, asshole. you’re not getting off that easy.”

and suddenly richie’s flipping him over and putting him on his hands and knees, richie glancing down at the boy. mike feels small, and vulnerable, relishing in richie’s dominance. richie's smacking his ass repeatedly, leaving red welts with every hit, each one harder than the last. “you - annoy - the - shit - out - of - me!” richie growled, punctuating each word with a hard smack. mike was crying below him, his leaking cock getting no attention. “Same here, asshole!” he said as defiantly as he could in his position. “oh yeah? you want me to be an asshole? i’ll show you an asshole.” mike hears the unbuckling of a belt behind him, a zipper being pulled, and then he feels the head of richie’s cock ghosting against his tight hole. richie’s hesitating, waiting for an okay. “what are you waiting for? do it, pussy!” mike sputters, and his words turn into screams and richie pounds into him, his hands gripping his hips hard enough to leave bruises. mike’s struggling to stay upright, his elbows shaking violently. richie’s spilling curses from his mouth left and right, the tightness of mike’s ass pushing him closer to the edge with every thrust. the burn from the cock sliding in and out of him brings more tears to mike’s eyes, streaming down his hot cheeks.

it hurts, it hurts, but it also feels amazing, and he needs more. he pushes back against richie, trying to feel him against that spot, that one spot that drives him crazy. richie lets out a breathy chuckle, stopping all movements completely. mike cries harder, words stuttering out of his mouth. “why, w-why d-did you- stop- you… you- bi-” richie smacks him, and tugs onto his hair, pulling his head back almost completely. “don’t talk to me like that or i’ll wreck you, bitch.” richie adjusts his body to get a better angle, then starts thrusting again, hitting mike’s prostate directly now. it only takes one, two, three more hits until mike’s coming untouched, his eyes squeezed shut and his legs trembling with the effort to keep him upright. but richie doesn’t stop, dragging mike to overstimulation and crying harder with every push. “please- please, richie- rich, i hate you- i hate you- so much.” surprisingly, it’s mike’s incoherent babbling that takes richie there, and he’s coming in his ass, squeezing every last drop into his overused hole.

richie stays inside a bit, tracing mike’s spine with the tip of his finger, which is ironic considering what they were just doing. when mike catches his breath, he looks behind him at richie, who looks a little spacey. “i don’t hate you, you know that right, rich?” richie shakes his head and pulls out to walk upstairs, leaving mike on the ground shaking. he comes back though with a wet towel, and sweatpants on, sitting low on his hips. mike watches him as he cleans him up, wiping gently across his stomach and rubbing soothing circles on his red skin. “i know you don’t. i don’t either.” richie says suddenly, breaking the calm silence. “why are you always so mean to me then?” he grabs mike’s clothes and tosses them to him, standing up and rubbing the back of his neck. “i think because i like you, you make me feel weird things and i guess it don’t want to admit it.” mike buttons his jeans, smiling up at a blushing richie. “do you want to maybe start over?” “start over?” richie asks as he watches mike walk out the door, closing it behind him. then the doorbell rings, and richie is severely confused. he opens the door to see mike standing there, running his hands through his curls.

“hey, i’m mike wheeler, i just moved to derry, and i like you alot, richie tozier.” richie smiles and extends his hand for mike to hold. “hi mike, my name is richie tozier and i like you alot too.” he says, wiping the blood from his throbbing nose that mike caused only a few minutes earlier.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, suga. leave some kind words  
> xoxo, @trahsmouthing


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